


What I hear no one else has to know

by PercyByssheShelley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Gen, Halloween, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2504426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PercyByssheShelley/pseuds/PercyByssheShelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is Allison Argent for Halloween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I hear no one else has to know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bulbasaurlife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulbasaurlife/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I stopped watching Teen Wolf at the end of 3A. You can consider this set in an alternate universe that split off from that point, where Scott, Isaac and Allison realized the obvious solution to their problem and no more teenagers died horribly. Basically, this is set during a 3B I would have been willing to watch. 
> 
> That does mean that I wasn't able to include Kira, and I'm sorry if that disappoints! I figured better to leave her out and suck a little than write her incorrectly and suck a lot. 
> 
> I am aware that there was an actual Halloween episode in 3B, but this fic is unrelated. 
> 
> I tried to keep this gen, but my Stiles/Derek bias bled through a bit, so it could also be read as pre-slash.

"Nice," a girl said when he opened Lydia's back gate. "Katniss Everdeen, right?"

"Sure," he said, adjusting the plastic recurve bow where it was draped over his shoulder. It didn't seem worth the energy correcting her- Halloween costumes were fluid, after all. Last year he'd come dressed as the Green Arrow, and by eleven had given up and agreed that he was Robin Hood whenever anyone asked.

He couldn't even hazard a guess at what she was supposed to be, aside from purple and sparkly. A sexy glass of grape soda?

Allison was the first of his friends to see him - not counting the girls from the Jungle, who had talked him through applying his eyeliner with shaking hands via Skype. She was standing on the far side of the pool, looking comfortable and relaxed in a Team USA jersey, and shot him a thumbs-up when she spotted him. Technically she had seen his costume before- he'd checked in with her when he bought the various pieces, to make sure she thought the idea was closer to the 'funny' end of the scale than the 'that's so creepy I'm going to get my werewolf boyfriends to eat you' end.

...

He was standing by the drinks table chatting with Danny and sipping a cup of ‘punch’ that he suspected was actually vodka with a splash of ginger ale, when Isaac slid up behind him. He rested his chin on Stiles' shoulder, bare chest plastered against his back. "Did you change out of your costume already, babe?"

"Nope, still wearing it," Stiles said, tipping his head to the side to nuzzle Isaac’s cheek as obnoxiously as possible.

Isaac squeaked and sprang away. Stiles grabbed at his forearms and tried to reel him back in for a hug. "Don't toy with my emotions, Lahey!"

"Why are you dressed like Allison?" Isaac asked, resisting his pull easily.

Stiles flipped the thick black braid of his wig over one shoulder. "It's Halloween. Why are you dressed like..." he turned around and took in Isaac’s tight jeans, leather boots and the cheap plastic wolf mask pushed to the top of his head. “Dude, tell me you’re not Jacob Black.”

Isaac looked offended. “I’m Alcide Herveaux.”

“That’s not any better,” Stiles shoved his shoulder. “The real Allison is outside.”

...

Lydia was holding court on the dance floor, pressed on all sides by a heaving mass of dancers, and yet somehow moving through the crowd like they were made of smoke. Stiles’ heart stopped for a moment when the light caught the red sheen of her eyes, but when the music changed and she threw herself into a faster tempo he saw the shimmer of body glitter on her cheeks and collarbones, and laughed with realisation.

He didn’t deliberately seek her out, but within minutes the shifting tide of bodies brought her to him. She smiled, revealing a pair of white fangs. They weren’t the cheap plastic vampire teeth that he’d seen plenty of kids wearing on his drive over, but high end custom fitted ceramic. The kind he’d been coveting for years, back when vampires were a fun LARPing option instead of a real thing that they might have to worry about one day.

(Or possibly not. He still hadn’t managed to get a straight answer out of Deaton on that one.)

It’s a moment straight out of one of his old fantasies, Lydia throwing her arms around his neck and melting against him, while Beyonce croons about having love right in her path, in her grasp. But in all of his daydreams Lydia had been staring adoringly at his face, instead of approvingly at his outfit.

But instead of disappointment, he felt a spark of warmth in his chest. Damn right she looked at him like that when he wore a skater dress and leggings. He looked amazing.

“So is this sudden affection for me an Allison thing, or a men in women’s underwear thing?” he joked. And immediately regretted it when he got a strong mental image of Jackson in a corset and stockings.

For a moment he thought she was leaning in to bite him, but instead she pushed up on to her toes and whispered in his ear. “Is this you trying to be funny, or a safe way to test the waters and see what reaction you get?”

He made a face, and she gave him a smile that was all dark angles and sharp teeth.

…

Somewhere around midnight he stepped out for air, and wasn’t surprised to find Derek standing in Mrs Martin’s garden bed, behind one of the plinths she’d set out beside the door to hold jack-o-lanterns.

“Hey lurky,” Stiles said, pulling the other jack-o-lantern into his lap so that he could sit on its plinth. “You guarding the door?”

Derek did that thing where he rolled his eyes with his entire head. “I’m handing out the candy.”

“I see. And you’re out here waiting for the post-midnight rush?”

That got him a face full of miniature bags of Skittles. He flailed trying to grab at them and mostly failed, but the ones he missed dropped into the folds of his skirt, so he decided to count that as a win.

He ripped a bag open and tipped them into his mouth, while eyeing Derek. He was dressed in his usual uniform of a tight shirt, tighter jeans and a black leather jacket. “So, how are you copping out? James Dean? Danny Zuko? Arthur ‘The Fonz’ Fonzarelli?”

Derek stepped out of the shadows and into the glow cast by the porch light. Stiles braced for another violent shower of candy, but instead Derek glanced around as if checking for spies, and pulled his jacket to the side.

Just to the left of his heart was a white name-tag with ‘GOD’ scrawled on it in sharpie.

“Oh my god. I don’t know if that’s even worse than Isaac’s, or the best thing I’ve seen all night.”

“Please decide quickly,” Derek said, fishing around in the bowl. “You know your opinion is vital to me.”

Stiles threw a bag of Skittles at him, which immediately turned out to be a bad idea when Derek was so much better armed.

“You know, we must have been thinking along similar lines,” he said, once hostilities had subsided. “I figured if we end up in a Buffy season two ‘everyone turns into their costumes’ situation, at least we’ll still have one Allison around to pull our butts out of the fire.”

“Why do you do that?” Derek asked.

“Do what?”

“Lie to people you know can tell.”

“I guess I keep assuming you have the basic social skills to not call it out.” Stiles stared down at the jack-o-lantern in his lap, watching the candle flicker. “I don’t know why.”

“You know no one cares if you want to wear a dress,” Derek said. Stiles glanced up at him sharply, wondering if he was trying for sarcastic and landed on soft and earnest by mistake.

The thing was, it was almost definitely true. Stiles couldn’t imagine any of his people caring. Unless it was an ugly dress. Then Lydia would definitely care.

But it still felt like too big a thing to just come out and say.

“Yeah, well I care about as much about your opinion as you do about mine,” Stiles snapped. He knew it was a mistake the second the words were out of his mouth, feeling his heartbeat lurch.

But Derek didn’t smirk, crack a joke or roll his eyes. He looked genuinely pleased, just for a moment, and then his mask of calm detachment came down again.

The door opened and closed behind them, and suddenly Stiles had a Scott cuddled against his side. Stiles shifted so that Scott’s plastic stethoscope wasn’t digging into his back, and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Dude. Not actually Allison.”

“I know,” Scott said, tapping the side of his nose. "Also you're like twice her size. How oblivious would I have to be to not be able to tell the difference between you?" 

"Massively," Stiles said, then grinned when Scott did the little head-tilt that meant someone outside of human hearing range was talking to him. "Tell Isaac to stop eavesdropping."

Scott rolled his eyes. “I'm staying out of this. Anyway, I need you to drive me home.”

“I can literally see your bike from here. Looking right at it.”

“Yes, but Greenburg filled one of those plastic pumpkin buckets with punch and bet me I couldn’t drink the whole thing. I won, but Danielle was watching and she took my keys away.”

Stiles glanced over at Derek, who appeared to be trying very hard to look like he hadn’t noticed that Scott had barely noticed he was there.

Ordinarily he’d just grab his keys and go- one on one bro time was increasingly hard to get now that Scott was (not even euphemistically) the leader of the pack. But there was an odd undercurrent to his conversation with Derek, and he kind of wanted to see where it was going. “Can’t Isaac or Allison drive you?”     

Scott looked scandalized. “Dude. Tonight is Allison and Isaac’s date night. I can’t-”

“Say no more,” Stiles interrupted. He’d spent more than one lunch break hearing about the complexities of that schedule, about how when you really thought about it there wasn’t just one relationship in play but four, and each of those relationships needed time and respect or the whole thing would collapse.

He just couldn’t hear the speech again. There were things about their new life—like that werewolves existed and would almost certainly kill him one day—that he could accept and other things—like that his best friend now celebrated ‘Threesome Thursday’—that he couldn’t.

“Fine.” He wriggled off the plinth and plopped the jack-o-lantern back in its rightful spot. “But you’re buying me so much discount candy tomorrow. Not the knock off brands, either.”

“You’re the best.” Scott pulled him into another quick side hug, and then waved at Derek before disappearing back inside.

“I should probably go say goodbye to people too,” Stiles said. Which, weird. A year ago he could have disappeared from a party like this with no one caring, because no one would have even noticed he’d been there. “If a Buffy situation comes up, good luck with that.”

As Stiles turned to open the door, Derek reached out and grabbed his braid, tugging the wig off. “There. Now if a Buffy situation comes up, we’ll still have a Stiles.”

“I’m still wearing the rest of the costume.”

Derek shrugged. “It’s not a costume anymore. Just an outfit.”

Stiles pulled the door open and slipped inside, waiting until the door was safely shut between them before he let himself smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Derek's costume is a reference to this scene in Buffy the Vampire Slayer: http://buffy-screencaps.com/image/65563885180
> 
> Basically his lazy costume is of another werewolf in a lazy costume.


End file.
